


Please Accept My Resignation

by RainingInExile



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Groveling, M/M, Magic Revealed, Oblivious Arthur, Running Away, fed up with Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainingInExile/pseuds/RainingInExile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young King Arthur is rudely awakened one morning by the news that his manservant of several years has resigned and left the city. Unfortunately for Merlin, Arthur has something to say about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Proper Awakening

Arthur wakes to the sound of someone calling his title. This is the first clue he has that the day will not be a good one. Merlin very rarely calls him by his title in private, and especially not first thing in the morning.

The voice is wrong too, and it only really takes Arthur a few seconds to realize it’s George who’s woken him up. A quick glance around the room confirms that Merlin is nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Merlin?” He tries not to make it sound like the complaint that it is, voice rough with sleep.

“Merlin resigned his post late last night, Sire.” George announced like he was remarking on the weather. “But never fear, I am most confident that I can have things running just as smoothly for you. My familiarity will make the transition very smooth, Sire. You’ll hardly notice the difference.”

Arthur shot up at the first words, eyes narrowed as the feeling of disbelief washed over him. “He resigned?”

“Yes, Sire.” George answered immediately, but it sounded slightly unsure, as though he would have expected Arthur to be aware of the fact.

“That’s ridiculous. Tell him to come here at once.” Arthur sighed, flopping back into the pillows but abruptly too agitated to sleep anymore.

When George didn’t immediately reply, and there was no sound of footsteps, Arthur tilted his head back up. “What?”

“I’m not sure that will be possible, Sire.”

“And why is that?” Arthur huffed, crossing his arms.

“I heard that he was leaving this morning. I believe he’s already on his way.”

Arthur took a deep, careful breath and did not let loose any of the myriad of impolite and unkingly words he wanted to issue. Instead he swung up out of bed and ignored George’s hopeful smile in favor of pulling on some clothes so he could go figure out what the hell had happened to his manservant.

\--

Gaius looked up as Arthur entered after barely a knock, but he didn’t look terribly surprised.

“Good morning, Sire. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Where’s Merlin?” Arthur asked, coming to a stop next to the end of Gaius’ table.

Gaius frowned. “I’m afraid he’s already set out. Said he wanted to make the most of the light.”

“Of course he did,” Arthur muttered under his breath. “Where was he heading? Did he take a horse?”

“Merlin doesn’t own a horse, Sire.” Gaius pointed out calmly, but with a subtle edge.

The possible implications of Arthur’s question sunk in and Arthur sighed. “I didn’t mean it that way. Only Merlin could if he wanted to. Take one of the palace horses, that is.”

“Not technically,” Gaius shook his head. “He’s not on palace business.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Never mind that, where is he going?”

“Why do you want to know?” From anyone else the question would sound belligerent at best. From Gaius however, it merely sounded curious.

Arthur crossed his arms and stopped pacing the floor to face the old physician. “Because I’m not accepting h is resignation without at least a chance to work through…whatever it is that’s obviously happened.”

He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Merlin was on foot. There was no way Arthur wouldn’t be able to catch up, especially if he knew what direction his wayward manservant was heading in.

Gaius smiled a small smile and shrugged. “He suggested he might go visit Ealdor for a time before moving on elsewhere.”

Arthur nodded, sweeping toward the door immediately. He paused just out of the doorframe and took a step back to look at Gaius once more. “Thank you.”


	2. Making Decisions

_The night before…_

Merlin is halfway through sitting down to dinner when the candle lights itself at the end of the table and Merlin freezes.

Gaius, already seated across the table, just sighs. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

Merlin sits the rest of the way down and picks up his fork even though his appetite has fled like a deer from a party of knights. He hadn’t intended to light the candle, had barely even glanced at it with a vague thought that maybe they could use more light, when the flame had helpfully sprung into being.

“I’ve been trying to keep a better hold on it.” Merlin mumbles, looking off to the side toward the window. “It’s just being so…pushy.”

“You should tell Arthur.” Gaius says, opening the floor up for an argument that they’ve already had more times than Merlin can remember. When he’s in a very good mood Merlin is amused that it used to be _him_ arguing for showing off and _Gaius_ telling him to stay carefully hidden. It’s been a while since Merlin’s been in a good mood though.

“He’ll execute me.” Merlin says, leading in the same way he always does. They’ve come to the mutual agreement that Arthur probably wouldn’t go _quite_ that far given their amiable history, but Merlin doesn’t like to think about all the options that still leaves open. Like banishment, or torture. He's not even positive which would be _worse._

“You underestimate how much Arthur has grown.” Gaius says, tone slightly accusing. As though Merlin is the one being ridiculous for not wanting to admit to a crime punishable by death in Camelot.

“Even if I agreed with you that Arthur _probably_ wouldn’t do anything drastic, there’s still the matter of my control.” Merlin says, hating this whole thing. He hates having his magic act without him. “What if I hurt someone?” Merlin practically whispers. “What if I burn down half the castle in my sleep?”

Gaius gives him a patient but tired look, “You must trust in yourself and your magic. It is a part of you. As long as you are good, so is it.”

“Right.” Merlin says, deciding he’s more than done with the conversation topic. He forces his expression and voice to lighten. “Have you heard about Gruhilda’s recent truffle disaster?”

Gaius gives him a pointed look to remind him that the conversation about his magic isn’t over by a long shot, but it melts into a reluctantly indulgent smile and he goes along with the topic change. The rest of the meal passes in much lighter conversation, and Merlin even manages to eat a little before he goes to prepare Arthur’s room for the night.

By the time he’s fetched wood for the fire and made it up to Arthur’s room, Merlin’s almost relaxed. The routine is comforting, despite all his complaints, and with all of the weight constantly on his shoulders, he’s often found it almost meditative. Not that he’d ever stop complaining to Arthur about it.

He enters the room and breathes a small sigh of relief when he finds it still empty. Not only because he’s probably running a bit late getting things ready, but he doesn’t like to deal with Arthur when his nerves are already so frazzled.

Merlin starts in the direction of the fireplace first, and flames burst into being above the empty grate, startling him into dropping the pile of chopped wood in his arms all over the floor. Merlin immediately wills the flames away, and they go all too easily, but he feels panicked anyways, his heart pounding in his chest.

More often than not, Arthur is present in his rooms when Merlin is starting up the fire. Were it any of those nights, he would have been exposed just like that. All his years of careful disguises and distractions wasted as he was finally forced to face Arthur’s judgment.

It’s only a matter of time, too, if this keeps up the way it’s going. Merlin’s been risking more and more every day as his magic has grown restless. At any time now he will slip up, and Arthur will know.

Unless he leaves. If Merlin leaves of his own volition, without any charges set against him, then he will still be free to travel through the lands of Camelot. He can still keep watch, hidden in the shadows, and he can still have the element of surprise against any adversaries he takes on to protect the lands. In some ways, it might even make his job easier.

With that decided, Merlin turns an eye to the room, allowing his magic out to help him complete his chores as quickly as he can. Part of him wants to linger, to take his time now that this will be his last day as Arthur’s manservant. Part of him wants to see Arthur again before he goes, and maybe say some form of goodbye.

Merlin won’t though. He doesn’t want to risk that Arthur will catch on and try to stop him. Arthur could probably stop him.

As soon as Arthur’s room is ready, Merlin makes his way back to his own room and starts stuffing his things in his bag. Whatever he can safety take with him on foot for possibly a long time. It’s depressingly little after he’s decided to leave his books and the sidhe staff behind, but he supposes it’ll at least be easy to carry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback so far! It's been very encouraging and I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying this :)


	3. Casting Blame

Arthur was barely out of Gaius’ chambers before he started making a list of which knights to take with him. Not too many, because he didn’t want to draw undue attention, but enough that if any bandits or Saxons did show up they’d be able to handle it.

A part of him wanted to take Leon with him, but Leon was more useful staying in Camelot in case anything came up. Not only because he was an excellent knight with a good head on his shoulders and some natural leadership qualities, but the people liked him. The other knights, guardsmen, and even the citizens were used to seeing Leon around, and many already turned to him to help handle disputes or concerns.

He’d take Percival with him, because Percival’d been itching for some excitement lately and he’d keep quiet if Arthur wanted him to. It didn’t hurt that he was also a highly imposing figure, tall and broad and clearly capable of pummeling someone with weapons or without. He would half their chances of getting attacked just by being there, and with a small party that would be even more important.

Perhaps—

Arthur paused, drawn out of his thoughts by a the nearby sound of feet. He turned to glance down the corridor.

Gwaine was glaring at Arthur in a way he hadn’t since before his knighthood. Since before they’d become friends of a sort. Arthur knew immediately that something had set off his quickly-becoming-legendary temper and took a reflexive step back as Gwaine got within range and grabbed Arthur’s tunic, holding him more or less in place.

“What did you do?” His voice was practically a hiss, quiet and promising vengeance as he put himself firmly in Arthur’s face.

Arthur shoved at him, but made no real attempt to get himself free just yet. “What are you talking about?”

“What did you do _to Merlin?_ ” Gwaine clarified, like that was obvious.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, and pulled out his best _I’m the King_ voice. “That is none of your concern.”

It made Arthur feel more in control of the situation, but Gwaine, as usual, proved completely impervious. “Bollocks.”

“Fine.” Arthur snapped, already annoyed and worn-down with trying to figure out Merlin while he was being unusually impossible. “I have no idea. Happy?”

Gwaine’s glare evaporated and he tilted his head, looking a mix of curious and concerned. “Really?”

“No, I had him kicked out.” Arthur deadpanned. “Of course I’m serious. I have no bloody idea what’s happened to Merlin because _Merlin_ hasn’t said a word to me since probably lunch yesterday.”

“And you didn’t say or do anything awful?” Gwaine asked. Arthur hit him over the head. Gwaine yelped.

“No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Gwaine opened his mouth and Arthur hit him again before he could say anything.

“If Merlin had a problem with how things were then he would have done something about it ages ago.”

Gwaine paused, and seemed to be seriously considering what Arthur was telling him. “Then why’d he leave?”

Arthur frowned. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

“I’m coming with you.” Gwaine said immediately.

“No.” Arthur said.

“I’ll go grab my armor.” Gwaine said, finally stepping away and starting down the hallway.

Arthur glared at him as he left. Gwaine was going to be annoying the whole ride. He would comment on the weather and make piss-poor jokes and probably start coming up with conspiracy theories to explain Merlin’s sudden departure. He would be insufferable.

For the smallest of split seconds Arthur considered cancelling the whole trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Hope this helps ;)


	4. Moving Forward

Merlin had woken long before the sun rose, jarred from an uneasy sleep at the sensation of his magic slipping from his control. It wasn’t the first time that night, or even that week, that Merlin had woken to the feeling, and each time his heart raced and he had to fight to calm himself.

He had looked around his room to find his carefully packed belongings strewn about everywhere, his bag inside out on the floor, and sighed.

It didn’t take long to gather everything back together, even having to retrieve some items from all sorts of unlikely places, and then Merlin spent a long indecisive moment listening at the door to see if Gaius was still asleep. Unsurprisingly, given that the sun hadn’t even risen, he could hear no movement, and Merlin debated waiting or waking Gaius to say goodbye.

In the end, he settled on writing him a letter. Gaius would probably be upset, but he would understand. Maybe.

A voice in his head called him out for being a coward, but the rest of Merlin was too preoccupied with a growing anxiety and he ignored the voice, pushing it to the back of his mind.

He crept through Gaius’ chambers and left the letter on the table where Gaius would discover it when he work. Merlin detoured by the kitchen to nab a bit of breakfast and a little food for the road and he informed the proper authority of his resignation. He was on his way through the lower town and making his way past the city’s main gate by the time the blue light of pre-dawn began to brighten the world around him, allowing him to continue on into the path he had followed from Ealdor all those years ago. It felt like another lifetime ago.

It got darker again as Merlin moved deeper into the woods, the early daylight filtering in poorly through the thick foliage. He barely even noticed at first that his way was being brightened by more than just the rays of light. Merlin scowled when he realized his magic was creating little tiny lights in the nearby trees and bushes, like fireflies lighting his way. He tried to will them away, closing his eyes and narrowing his focus to getting his magic back under his command, and it worked for a few minutes until he nearly tripped over a protruding root and the lights relit between one instant and the next.

Merlin felt a strange kind of helplessness building in his chest. It felt like learning about his destiny all over again. Like being told that he was supposed to help Arthur, who had been young and foolish and a spoiled bully at the time.

He might never get to see Arthur face-to-face again. He shouldn’t. Not unless he could manage to get a better handle on his magic, but as it had grown with him it had become harder and harder to contain. This wasn’t something that was just going to go away, and if Merlin couldn’t develop enough control to hide his magic, he would have to hide himself.

Merlin glanced behind him toward where he knew Camelot was standing proud against the sky, out of view through the forest of trees, and he took a deep breath. Time to move on.


	5. On The Road

There was something very wrong, Arthur thought, looking at Gwaine out of the corner of his eye. They’d been riding for nearly an hour already, and the idiot had barely said two words.

On any other day, Arthur would probably have been grateful. Instead, Arthur eventually caved and demanded, “Are you alright?”

Gwaine grinned, but even that seemed lacking. Too stiff. “Just fine, Princess. Don’t you worry about me. Unless Merlin’s hurt or it really _was_ your fault that he took off. Then go ahead and worry.”

Arthur glared, but Gwaine didn’t seem to notice.

“Anyways,” Gwaine continued, “What you ought to be doing is trying to figure out how you’ll bribe him into coming back with us.”

If Arthur had been walking he would have stopped. As it was his horse kept on easily without his attention. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re out here looking for Merlin because he’s run off for reasons still unknown. When we find him, what are you planning to say to make him change his mind?” Gwaine asked, looking curious.

Arthur looked out at the forest, trying not to think about that part like he’d been carefully not thinking about that part all morning. “I’m going to tell him how much trouble he’s in.” He told Gwaine, hoping the knight would drop it.

He could feel Gwaine’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t see the other man’s expression.

“I-ah,” Gwaine said, clearing his throat. Arthur was pretty sure he could detect laughter in his tone and glared at a nearby shrub as Gwaine went on. “I think you might want to reconsider that. _‘Come back and face your punishment,’_ might not be as tempting a motivator as you imagine.”

Arthur grit his teeth. “Merlin is my manservant. He won’t defy a direct command from his King.”

Gwaine sighed in a long lazy exhale. “Merlin quit. Technically he only has as much obligation to do as you ask as anyone else now.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Arthur scoffed. “It’s _Merlin_. He’ll do it if I ask him to.”

Gwaine chuckled “Have you _met_ Merlin? Man’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide.”

Arthur considered. Gwaine had a point, even though Arthur had planned to wing it instead of actually threatening Merlin with punishment. “We’ll just have to figure it out when we find him.”

“So you have no idea then?” the other knight asked.

“I have _multiple_ ideas.”

“Sure.” Gwaine said. “Would you like to have a go at a few of them ahead of time?”

Arthur scowled all the more. “I don’t need to practice.”

“Don’t be like that, there’s no shame in it,” Gwaine said, pushing Arthur’s shoulder lightly with the fingers of one hand.

“No, there isn’t.” Arthur agreed, “But that doesn’t mean I need to do it.”

“Spoilsport.”


End file.
